


No More Games

by Writingwife83



Series: Six Sentence Ficlets Expanded [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Drama & Romance, F/M, Feelings Realization, Sherlock Is A Bit Not Good, at least for that time period
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-14 02:25:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15378663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writingwife83/pseuds/Writingwife83
Summary: Sherlock realizes that he’s losing Molly Hooper a bit too late and attempts to take drastic action. Things don’t immediately go quite as he hoped they would.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elennemigo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elennemigo/gifts).



> The original ficlet was almost exactly how this first chapter starts. Here’s where things go afterwards, and the explanation of why it came to this. Enjoy! ;D

“What the blazes are you doing?!” Molly demanded, a blush flooding her cheeks as she was, admittedly quite expertly, swept along the dance floor by Sherlock Holmes.    


“I thought cutting in while you were waltzing with your fiancé would have made it all rather obvious,” he replied with a little smirk.

Yes, that was his hope. He wanted to be obvious. He’d been kicking himself for a full two weeks prior because of their last encounter. It had gone all wrong. And he only realized how much so after the fact.

“I can endure no more of these games, Mr. Holmes,” she stated firmly, the tiny quiver in her chin giving away the depth of her frustration. “If you wish to be rid of me as you’ve made so very plain in the past, then I beg you do not pull me from the arms of a man who  _ genuinely wants me _ !”   


He felt his chest constrict painfully at those words. This was how badly he’d done...how far he’d thrown them off track. And he wanted nothing more than for her to know.

Sherlock came to a full stop on the dance floor, uncaring of the couples who continued to move around them, intensely focusing his gaze and attention on nothing but her as he spoke just loud enough for her to hear above the music.   


“Miss Hooper, in the interest of doing away with games as you so wisely suggest, if you should want to stay within the arms of a man who wants you, then I must now be the one to beg of you… _ stay here _ .”

For a moment, the only response she offered him was wide eyed shock. 

“Miss H-“

And suddenly his arms and hands were empty. She pulled away at lightning speed and marched off the dance floor toward the doors leading outside.

Sherlock followed his first impulse, to follow at her heels. But as soon as he reached the edge of the dance floor, his path was blocked by Mrs. Watson.

“Mr. Holmes, I do believe you’ve caused enough of a scene for just now,” she stated pointedly. “Particularly here in the Charles’ home.”

Sherlock glanced from her to where Molly had exited the ball as Mary linked her arm with Sherlock, guiding him in the opposite direction with some effort.

“If you’re not careful, Mr. Holmes,” Mary continued in hushed tones. “People may begin to think you have a heart.”

“I must go to her,” he hissed in frustration.

“I disagree. You must make a show of exiting,” Mary replied calmly, then smiled up at him slyly. “And then you shall go round to the back of the house while I distract Mr. Thomas Charles and his parents.”

Sherlock smiled, impressed as always with her quick thinking.

He did just as she commanded, conspicuously storming out after grabbing his top hat and coat on the way. As he did, he heard Mary loudly apologizing for the unusual scene. He knew he was leaving the party in her capable hands.

Sherlock left the home, stepping outside and quickly circling around the property, even taking the trouble to crouch down so as not to be seen by the party guests through the windows. He soon caught sight of her, walking out in the garden.

When she heard him approach and turned in surprise, he stopped in his tracks seeing her tear stained cheeks shining in the moonlight. 

“Mr. Holmes, have you not done enough?” Molly asked in exasperation. “You have already confused me. Making me once again question which path in my life is the right one!”

“How can you be so unsure?” 

She let out a short laugh.

“How can I be otherwise? For so long I knew what I wanted, but then I came to finally believe that it was never to be. And now that I’ve chosen to move forward, you do this?” She shook her head. “Do you care nothing for me? Or for my uncle, Dr. Stamford, who simply wants to see me settled?”

“Miss Hooper, my care for you...” he attempted cautiously, stepping a touch closer. “Surely you must now understand what I truly...feel.”

“Forgive me, but the only detailed explanation of your feelings was last month when you so clearly expressed your opinions on the institute of marriage!” Molly exclaimed. 

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second. Yes, that unfortunate conversation got him in quite the mess. One he very much hoped he could claw his way out from under. 

“Yes, I- I recall of course,” he stammered. “But you see I- I hadn’t quite realized that you might then go so far as to...that is to say, I only later concluded that I could not bear to…”

The brilliant detective lost patience; with words, feelings, propriety, with himself as well. All of it.

He impetuously marched forward, gently grasping her face as he reached her and then lowering his mouth to press it firmly against hers, swallowing her tiny squeak of surprise. 

For just the space of a breath, he felt her lips soften, mold to his, and reciprocate. It was so brief that just as he began to register the intoxicating feeling, he felt two little palms press against his chest, shoving firmly and breaking the kiss that had barely begun.

She backed away, standing at arm’s length and holding her mouth with delicate lace clad fingers, almost as if keeping pressure on a now open wound. He looked back into her eyes and realized he’d unfortunately made yet another misstep.

“Forgive me, I...I simply wanted to make myself clear,” he attempted sheepishly. 

She was silent for what felt like forever. But finally she let her hand drop from her lips, sniffed away the moisture which hadn’t quite made it to the boiling point, and squared her shoulders.

“And I’m afraid that for now, I must do the same.” 

She picked up her skirts and walked forward, slowing only briefly as she passed him.

“I bid you goodnight, Mr. Holmes.”

She walked back to the party, briskly and without looking back. Their conversation was over and done with for that night, and Sherlock had to admit that she’d done what she said, and done it well. In fact she’d done what he apparently could not.

She’d made herself unmistakably clear.

* * *

 

“You said all of that to Miss Hooper?” John asked in disbelief. “Did it never occur to you that the woman was madly in love with you?”

Sherlock shrugged a shoulder. “I was aware she held me in rather high esteem.”

“High esteem!” John laughed. “That hardly defines the sort of feelings she has for you! What possessed you to say the things you did to her about marriage?”

“I was deeply focused on a case at that moment,” Sherlock stated with a frustrated sigh. “And besides, I was speaking of the arrangement  _ in general _ ! Never once did I state my dislike or disinterest in  _ her _ !”

“What else was the poor woman to think? You called marriage- what was it now? A ridiculous and unpleasant tradition, resulting in nothing but frustration and inconvenience for both parties, which is technically not even required for mankind’s necessity of procreation!”

He paused, gaze shifting uncomfortably at John repeating his own words.

“But I never said I would object to a marriage  _ to her _ ,” he attempted weakly. 

John threw up his hands.

“And how was I to know that after my words she would rush off and accept an offer of marriage from the first gentleman to ask!”

“Holmes, Thomas Charles had already been calling on her at Dr. Stamford’s for weeks! Of course she didn’t truly want to become engaged to him and all she needed from you was one word to give her hope. But you did the very opposite, so of course she finally accepted his proposal! What else was she to do? She’s twenty five and her uncle has already been hard pressed to care for her out of the goodness of his heart for the years since her father’s passing. Mr. Charles is a good and respected man and truly cares for her and is even unconcerned with her involvement at the hospital with her uncle, which most young men certainly would be. By all accounts he is an excellent match. What else did you expect would happen?”

The controlled detective’s voice boomed with unexpected fervor. “I didn’t expect to lose her!”

John’s expression softened, seeing his friend’s obvious pain.

Sherlock ran a hand over his face, speaking more calmly. “Yes, I wasn’t thinking at the time, but I quickly saw the error of my ways. So after I’d heard the news of her engagement I thought the only thing left to do was to right things as quickly as possible!”

“Yes of course,” John agreed patiently. “But charging onto the dance floor and grabbing Miss Hooper away from her fiancé, in his parent’s home no less, was hardly the way to do so. You embarrassed her and shocked every single person present. The gasps nearly drowned out the orchestra!”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and stared glumly into his fireplace.

“But you can still set this right, and you should,” John added. “And that should begin by talking to her honestly...truly bearing your soul.”

Sherlock frowned.

“I mean it, Holmes,” he insisted. “She may well doubt your...seriousness. How is she to know you are truly committed to the idea of sharing your life with her and not just in destroying her marriage to another man in order to keep her nearby? You have previously given her plenty of cause to doubt. Now you must give her a reason to trust.”

Sherlock stared intently at his friend and advisor, obviously taking his words quite seriously.

“So...tell her that I’m in love her?”

John smiled warmly, now genuinely impressed. He was definitely learning.

“Well done, Holmes,” he confirmed softly. “That is a truly excellent place to start.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for Sherlock to make things right and wrap it up! :D

Sherlock swept the hat off his head. “Mrs. Stamford, good evening!”

Mrs. Stamford’s brows lifted judgmentally, hesitantly stepping aside and allowing him entry to their modest home as she called down the hall. “Mr. Stamford!”

“I was actually here to see-“

“Yes, I’m well aware of who you’re here to see,” she replied curtly.

Sherlock pressed his lips together, effectively silenced by the motherly tone of disapproval.

“Mr. Holmes,” Stamford greeted politely, coming over to the entryway. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Shall I put on the kettle?”

“No, darling, thank you,” he replied to his wife as they exchanged a telling look. She gave Sherlock one more glance before leaving the two men.

Stamford sighed deeply, wringing his hands as he looked back at the detective.

“Holmes old boy…” He shook his head. “We are old friends, and I have the highest respect for you.”

“But only as a colleague,” Sherlock added perceptively.

“Please understand, Molly is the only child of my dear elder sister, God rest her. The girl had nobody left to care for her but us after my brother in law passed as well. I want nothing more than to see her happy and settled.”

“As do I,” Sherlock agreed firmly. “I beg you to take just a moment and hear me, Stamford. Hear me for yourself, and then you may feel free to throw me out on the street if you wish. But I very much hope that you’ll instead decide to go fetch your niece.”

Stamford stayed silent and unmoving for a worrisome moment, but then he finally stepped aside, gesturing toward his study. Sherlock followed him in, and as the door shut he knew that if there was a time to make his case, it was most definitely now...

* * *

Molly took slow and steady steps down the stairs, wanting as much time to think as possible before entering the sitting room and clamping eyes on him. That always tended to confuse things more than a little. One look into those unearthly eyes and she was transported to a world where logic and sense held far less weight. That would not be helpful in this instance.

Sherlock Holmes stood from his seat as she stepped into the doorway and she did her best not to directly meet his gaze. She walked calmly over and took the seat across from him, prompting him to sit again as well.

“You look well.”

Molly couldn’t help look at him then. Goodness, he was making quite the effort.

“I am well.”

That was a bit of a lie. She’d been in quite a state the past couple days. If she looked well to him, that was just a nice bit of luck.

“Watson advised I call,” he explained. “To set things right.”

“Yes, I can imagine he did.”

“I behaved a bit badly.”

Molly nervously smoothed her skirt offer her knees. “I should say so, yes.”

“Though that hardly changes the fact that you cannot marry Thomas Charles.”

Her lips instantly set in a tight line. “Mr. Holmes, have you come here today still attempting to dictate what I do with my life?”

“You do not love him,” he stated calmly.

She let out a bitter laugh, standing from her seat, turning away, and wrapping her arms protectively around her middle. The same sort of fire that he’d ignited in her during that party suddenly burned anew.

“You simply cannot say these things!” Molly said, turning back toward him. “You cannot appear whenever and wherever you please and say things to me just for the purpose of...manipulation!”

He frowned. “Manipulation?”

“Yes! You cannot say and do things to me which you know have such a very deep effect simply because you wish to prevent my marriage. The convenience of an assistant at the hospital should not be worth treating me in such a way! You cannot use me, I am not  _ yours _ !”

“I would never presume that you are!” Sherlock replied, his voice now matching hers as he stood. “But understand please that  _ I,  _ on the other hand,  _ am yours _ !”

Molly froze, blinking at him in shock. “Pardon?”

He paused, shifting on his feet somewhat nervously. 

“I am yours, Miss Hooper,” he repeated more softly. “Because I’m in love with you.”

“In...love with me,” she parroted, feeling as if she were outside her own body.

“Truly, genuinely, deeply,  _ romantically _ in love with you, yes,” Sherlock confirmed with purposeful clarity. “And I haven’t the desire to prevent your marriage because I want you for an assistant. It is because I cannot stomach the thought of you being any man’s wife...but mine.”

Molly suddenly felt a bit foolish. Should it have been obvious to her before now? Though, what he’d said to her in the morgue that day...

“But I- I did not think you wanted a wife at all.”

He gave her a single nod of understanding at what she was referencing. 

“I stand by my claim that the institution of marriage, in a broad sense, is a complete and utter mess. It is often hurried along or done for the wrong reasons, and then one or both parties feel nothing but a burden instead of the romanticized picture of the arrangement. But…”

“But,” she whispered impatiently, now very much hanging on his every word.

Sherlock stepped around the chairs they’d been sitting in to move in her direction.

“But that is nothing to do with you or I, Miss Hooper. And that general opinion of marriage does not reflect my estimation of what  _ our union _ would be. And I apologize most sincerely for not being crystal clear on this matter. I would have been, had I been wise enough to more quickly realize how much was at stake.”

She swallowed hard, staring back at him in silence. Now she hardly knew what to say. She’d suddenly been offered one of her greatest desires, and it was all a bit overwhelming. 

“I thought you needed to know,” he added, perhaps trying to fill the silence. “One needs all the facts before making important decisions.”

Molly nodded. “Though...you must understand, Mr. Holmes, that I’ve already made my decision,” she replied.

His expression fell instantly. “I see. Well then, I suppose it is only left for me to wish you and Mr. Charles-“

“I broke with Thomas Charles yesterday.”

His eyes practically doubled. “You...what?”

“The very next morning after the party,” she confirmed, enjoying the way his expression began to very slowly brighten again. “You see, regardless of what I believed about us, I was simply reminded of the way you move me. The way you’ve always have and I expect always will. Sometimes including frustration,” she added with a smile. “But nevertheless, no man moves me as you do. And certainly not Thomas Charles, though on all counts a perfectly good man. So it made me realize that even if I were to end my days an old maid, I could not possibly marry him. Or any other man that makes me feel so very little.”

The corner of his lips twitched up. “I move you?”

If only she could let him feel the proof in the shiver along her skin from his question and glance alone.

“With impressive ease,” she whispered. 

He was quite obviously drawn forward by those words, stopping only as he came toe to toe with her. She felt a little dizzy, quite sure he was about to kiss her again, which she was admittedly craving since that mad moment in the Charles’ garden. 

“May I call again?” 

That threw her off a bit.

“Will I not see you tomorrow? At Saint Bart’s?”

“I believe so, yes. But I should like to call on you here...regularly.”

“You mean...proper courting?” He really was full of surprises.

“Proper courting, yes,” he confirmed, his gaze drifting to her lips. “Though I cannot promise it will be terribly long…”

“Heavens I hope not,” Molly murmured, her gaze following a similar path. 

“Er, Miss Hooper,” Sherlock began hesitantly. “I realize I crossed a number of boundaries the other night, for which I’m terribly sorry.”

“Yes, yes.”

“And one thing in particular that I did stands out as having been rather unwelcome by you. But...I wondered if perhaps now you wouldn’t be opposed to…”

“For goodness sake, yes please kiss me!” 

Well he certainly was an excellent listener when it really counted. 

Sherlock cradled her face as his lips met hers, much as he’d done the other night. But this time she was able to truly enjoy the delicious feeling of it. The fact that she could so easily feel his affection for her now, as well as having heard it verbally, made it all so wonderfully real.

She grasped his wrists as he pulled slowly away from her mouth, leaving her world spinning. 

“Mr. Holmes, I believe you owe me a proper waltz as well,” she whispered, smiling up at him. “One where it does not begin with you cutting in.”

“And you shall have it,” he assured her with a particular sparkle in his eye. “In fact, Miss Hooper, it’s my sincere wish that at the next party we attend...we will dance with no one but each other.”

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 will hopefully be coming soon! Not terribly mysterious where this is all heading I’m sure, but I’m assuming you’d still like to see it play out lol. :)


End file.
